


After a Long Day

by bballgirl3022



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fluff, M/M, Massage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-18
Updated: 2011-06-18
Packaged: 2017-10-20 12:54:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/212983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bballgirl3022/pseuds/bballgirl3022
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel has had a hard day at work.  Dean helps him to relax.</p>
            </blockquote>





	After a Long Day

**Author's Note:**

> A/N 1: For Shannonknits for the SPNFLUFFMEME round one prompt Dean/Castiel, hair petting/scalp massaging.
> 
> A/N 2: Thanks to moonofblindness for the beta work. All other mistakes are my own.

The day before the semester term paper is due is the most stressful of the year. Students come with never ending questions, most of which were answered a hundred previous times. So Castiel gets home much later than usual on this day.

Thankfully Dean has dinner almost ready and Castiel doesn’t have to do more than kick off his shoes and flop down on the couch after Dean has stuffed him full of chili and cornbread.

They’re watching a game of some sort, baseball Castiel thinks. He’s not sure who is playing or if the team Dean is rooting for is winning or losing.

He does know that his head is pillowed in Dean’s lap. His sock clad feet hang over the other end of the couch. Dean’s magic fingers run through Castiel’s dark locks. It’s soothing. His eyes close as a wave of bliss washes over him.

“Difficult day at school?” Dean questions. His gaze never leaves the TV and his fingers never falter in their movements.

Castiel heaves a sigh. “There is always some crisis or other at term paper time.”

“Oh yes. High school term papers were a thing of evil.”

“If you wouldn’t have waited until the night before to write it, it wouldn’t have been so bad,” he replies, peering up at Dean through hooded eyes. His partner’s cheeks are tinged pink and his hand stop making nonsensical patterns on his scalp.

A whine erupts from his throat. “Don’t stop,” he complains while nuzzling Dean’s abdomen.

The pleasant scratch to his scalp alerts Castiel that Dean listened.

Castiel relaxes under Dean’s ministrations. His presence is always calming to Castiel’s frazzled nerves. He starts to drift from the combination of Dean’s warmth and the rub-scratch of Dean’s fingers through his hair.

They fall asleep like that. Castiel’s head in Dean’s lap; Dean’s fingers tangled in Castiel’s hair. Dean’s head tipped back, soft snores falling past his lips.

It isn’t the most comfortable way to sleep, mostly because the couch is horrible for their backs, but it couldn’t be more perfect in Castiel’s eyes.


End file.
